


ebb and flow

by mildlydiscouraging



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Beach House, Canon Compliant, Coffee, Liberal Use of Em Dashes and Italics, M/M, Mid-Finale, Old Men In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 09:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12055716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mildlydiscouraging/pseuds/mildlydiscouraging
Summary: There's a path that runs straight from Merle's house to the beach. It was the first thing he'd added that made this house really his. The driftwood stairs lead from the tiny but surprisingly lush garden outside the kitchen door up in the cliff to down to the edge of the sand. First thing in the morning, when the only sound is the water is crashing on the shore, it's the most beautiful place in the world.





	ebb and flow

There's a path that runs straight from Merle's house to the beach. It was the first thing he'd added that made this house really his. The driftwood stairs lead from the tiny but surprisingly lush garden outside the kitchen door up in the cliff to down to the edge of the sand. First thing in the morning, when the only sound is the water is crashing on the shore, it's the most beautiful place in the world.

Merle is standing in that doorway now as a small ship stops a few hundred feet out from the shore in the early morning light. He doesn't question what it's doing or call out asking who is aboard. He knows.

"Cap'n," he says once the little rowboat is close enough. "Fancy seeing you here."

Davenport waves before clambering out of the little boat. Boots in hand and pants rolled up to the knee, he wades through the dawn's cool shallows to the equally cool sand. Merle comes down to meet him and ignores Davenport's offered hand in favor of a hug.

"How've you been?"

"Good." Davenport smiles. It's not quite a full grin, but it's about as close as he's gotten in years. "Brought back presents for everybody. You?"

"Ah, you know," Merle waves a hand dismissively as they start to walk back up to the house. "Still got some boxes to unpack, settling to do. Should probably start doing some earl-y stuff eventually."

Davenport laughs. "Eventually, yeah."

Merle unlatches the little gate into the garden and points out a couple of plants as they walk past. "Taako brought that back after some press tour or something. No clue what that kid's ever up to, but he seems to be having a good time. And over there you can see where Mookie and Magnus trampled the first batch of rhubarb."

The wooden walkway is completely surrounded by plants of all sorts, including a couple of specimens from their years on the Starblaster that had been carefully taken care of over the years in secret. Davenport knows he isn't the most knowledgeable when it comes to botany, but he's pretty sure there are at least a few things in here that definitely shouldn't be able to grow in the sand and loose dirt.

"You and Pan good then?"

"Hell yeah!" Merle holds open the door into the kitchen. "Comes and helps with the gooseberries sometimes."

As Davenport drops his boots by the door, he raises an eyebrow. "Are you serious?" He asks.

Merle chuckles. "Gods no. Coffee?"

Davenport nods and sits when Merle points at the table. The smell of freshly brewed coffee had already filled the kitchen by the time they'd entered, and it isn't that long before Davenport hears the clink of mugs and spoons behind him.

"How's the sailing going?" Merle says behind him.

Davenport traces a long gouge in the table that hadn't been there the last time he had visited, when it had been a different kitchen, a different shore, but the same furniture as always. Looking around, he spots a couple of other new additions: a new chair in the corner, different curtains on the window overlooking the ocean, a painting he recognizes as Lucretia's work. He doesn't think too much about that last one.

"Good," he eventually answers. "Lots of time to think."

Merle sets down a mug in front of Davenport and falls into the chair next to him at the head of the table with his own drink. Both their mugs are obviously handmade, one a little neater than the other, and painted all over in similar shades of blue and green. When Merle takes a sip of his, Davenport can see the initials "MH" carved into the bottom, and not knowing exactly who it refers to makes him smile.

"You ever miss having a crew? All that quiet... Geez, I think it would drive me nuts."

Davenport wraps his hands around his mug and stares into the dark coffee, considering it carefully.

"Sometimes..." He pauses. "A helping hand would be welcome. It's nice being alone with your thoughts, though."

Neither man says anything after that. Even indoors, they can hear the tide going out and now, in the silence between, the waking noises of the town down the beach.

"You're a damn good captain," Merle says after a bit. "If there's anyone I wouldn't worry about on their own against a hurricane, it's you."

Davenport tries to drink his coffee to avoid the silence and almost burns his tongue. He jerks backward, splashing some of his drink on the table, but before he can apologize Merle starts laughing.

"Don't worry about it," he says as he gets up to grab a dish cloth, snagging a bowl of sugar on his way back. "This old thing's seen much worse."

He hands Davenport the towel and sits back down. As Davenport wipes up the coffee and apologizes profusely, he pours more sugar than should be consumed in one sitting into his own mug and stirs.

"Just last week I had to stitch up Mookie's lip on the other end. Blood and mud everywhere with that kid, I can never keep up."

Davenport's smile is tinted with the remembrance of another table, another day, far away from here. They're different people, both for the better and worse, but the conversation is the same. He smirks and asks as he raises his mug, "We _did_ get older, huh?"

"Speak for yourself," Merle says. "I've never been sprier. I bet I could run a mile right now and not break a sweat."

Davenport laughs out some of his coffee back into his mug. "Have you ever run a mile before in your life?"

When Merle doesn't answer, Davenport laughs again and takes another sip. It's cooled to the point where he can drink it without burning his tongue and he does so gratefully. The warmth drips into his fingertips like a steady leaky tap and he feels himself relax that much more.

"How are they?"

"You can ask 'em yourself in a minute, probably. Mavis is an early riser, and Mookie, well, he never really sits still long enough to actually sleep."

At that Davenport balks a little and unconsciously grips the cloth still in his other hand. "I don't know..."

Every other time he had landed in Bottlenose Cove and every place before—sometimes heralded by postcards, sometimes not—he had avoided Merle's kids as much as possible: disappearing into town when they woke up, faking some prior engagement whenever Merle invited him to come along on their adventures. He'd only ever actually talked to them a few times and every one had been awkward for some reason other than that he didn't know what to do with kids.

"C'mon, man, stay for breakfast at least," Merle says. "Mav's been learning how to make banana pancakes and they're getting pretty good."

Davenport looks up and thinks about it. Merle is watching him with an open hope that settles strangely in Davenport's chest, not altogether unwelcome.

"Pancakes _does_ sound nice..."

"Yes!" Merle punches the air once and Davenport laughs. A breeze drifts through the open door behind him and he shivers but isn't really bothered.

"They've been asking about you, you know," Merle continues. "Wondering when you'd circle back around."

He doesn't know what possesses him to say it, but after a moment Davenport asks, "Were they the only ones?"

For the first time since Davenport came ashore, Merle is the source of the silence. He slides his mug back and forth between his hands on the table and stares up into the opposite corner of the ceiling.

"Yeah, well. No."

Whatever nerve Davenport found himself with a moment ago is gone and he can't meet Merle's eyes when he looks back down.

"Dav...?"

"I don't know, Merle," Davenport says, his voice suddenly tight, even higher than usual. "I thought seeing the world would make me appreciate everything we did and everything we  _lost_ —I thought I would find who I am now but I've been everywhere and haven't found _anything_. I don't know where to stop, or even how. I don't know where _me_  is, I... I don't even know who it is I'm looking for in the first place."

The words pour out of him like dammed up water and the life returns to his voice as he does. For a second he feels like the old Davenport, the one who knew how to take care of everyone and everything—like the Davenport before even that, who talked because he knew people were listening. For a second he feels like _Cap'nport_ again, and he doesn't know why the thought scares him.

"Dav."

Merle's hand lands on his own and Davenport doesn't pull away.

"Maybe it's time to stop looking everywhere else and stand still for a second."

When it starts to rain, Davenport doesn't make a move to leave. The sound of raindrops hitting the window panes is soothing, and the ocean beyond it—and, eventually, running footsteps on the stairs above. His fingertips are warm now, and he smiles at the wind from the open door.

**Author's Note:**

> me: i'm cool  
> my brain: Uncle Magnus and Uncle Taako and Aunt Lup and Aunt Lucretia and Uncle Barry and Dav  
> me: FUCK
> 
> this is set a few days before carey & killian's wedding. i imagine davenport stays with the excuse that he'd be back soon anyway.
> 
> dedicated to all the lovely people i met at mbmbam yesterday!!!! dylan, michelle, joel, mike, sarah, everyone whose names i forgot already or didn't get: y'all made it the best night it could be, and i really appreciate it.
> 
> for once this was gonna have a non-lyric title and then as i was editing the ghost of ralph pelleymounter chimed in so now it's from "[letters to my lover (the dylan fan)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7D8OQdlEks)" by to kill a king cuz ebb and flow is all we've got to ease what we've become!!!!! ebb and flow is all we've got to tell our stories get it straight for once!!!! #teamfoxygrandpas #thelovedoesnotstopb*tch
> 
> tumblr @[moonfullofstars](http://moonfullofstars.tumblr.com)  
> ko-fi @[mildlydiscouraging](https://ko-fi.com/mildlydiscouraging)


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